So I was driving along...

and it started to snow, really snow, like blizzard conditions, and in Manchester at that. I knew immediately the snow was not a regular visitor to these parts because my windscreen quickly became covered with thousands of icy particles each bearing a tiny shocked face mouthing "What the fuck!!!!" and clinging on to the glass for all they were worth. Opening the window I could hear a cacophony of high pitched voices whining like that trapped creature in the concluding scene from the 1958 version of The Fly. "Help meeeeeeeeeeeeee." they cried, "Help meeeeeeeeeeeee." and others said, "Ooof. Ooof. Ooof" as their brother and sister crystals boffed in behind. Many at the front became squashed shouting "For fuck's sake! Watch it at the back, if you don't mind." One or two of the lighthearted began a running commentary for those who were still landing.

"Yeah, he looks weird, mad staring eyes, pursed lips, uneven teeth, half an ear but at least his hairy hands are on the wheel. Ooof. Ooof. Excuse me!"
Another said, "I think my doze is broken."
An unshaven one grunted,"Shut the fuck up, you weed." before it turned to me and demanded, "What you looking at wanky boy? Ooof." A chaplain crystal declared that we should love all our fellow creatures.

"What's he doing now? Ooof." Came a voice from the rear.

"Hang on, there's movement, there's movement." And all peered in, except of course the one with a squint who could only comment on the passing shops, though to his credit he did push the chaplain through an air intake, an act that brightened everyone up, myself included.

Other voices shouted, "Is he still there? The one with the ear?"
"Half an ear," Someone corrected.
"Half an ear? Where's the other half then? Go on ask him."
So I said, "I haven't got half an ear, it's just misshapen."
"He said a bear ate it." And loads nodded, like they were impressed.

"How does he account for those teeth then?"

That was the final straw so I turned the heater to 14, or MEGATHERMICBOILINGSUNSCORCH alongside which is the handy warning (Only recommended if vehicle of no further use). The wipers were cranked to RUTHLESS, a setting famous on the Ford Thug as the sole alternative to, WIPETHEMYOURFUCKINGSELFYOUWHININGARSE.

New reports were sent from the front, "He's grinning now. No, laughing aloud, very aloud. And there's an odd look in his good eye."
A recent arrival paused before asking, "Is that maniacal laughter?"
And another said. "Ooof. Hang on, this sweeping bar, it's a Aaaiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

Brutal but efficient. Two arcs immediately blew over the roof and the rest were got by the heater but not all were melted. I know this from words that reached me as I pulled away.

"Oooh, I'm glad we're getting off here cos there's a sale on in that shop, or shops. Well, over there..."